Forged in Dreams and Magick hl-1

by Kat Bastion

  He took a slow step forward. I did the same. Another stride from each of us, and our bodies met, crushing together in a tangle of roaming hands and hungry mouths.

  Iain slowed the pace, dragging his lips over mine in pure devotion. Urgency grew within me, tiny moans escaping from my mouth into his as he deepened our kiss. He leisurely ran his tongue along mine—up one side, across, and down the other.

  He moved his hands up from the small of my back. His gentle, heated touch spread across my ribs, skimming up the fabric that covered my breasts. Iain pulled his lips away, and I heard a catch in his breath. I fluttered my eyes open as he took several steps back.

  “Undress.” The command was guttural as his gaze pierced mine.

  With bunched shoulders, taut thighs, and labored breathing, he looked like a predator preparing to devour his prey. Primal energy permeated the space around us, and a deep, warm ache spread through me as a ravenous hunger unlike any other took hold.

  I complied with the demand, stretching my arms back and untying the laces, knowing the action tightened my bodice across the front before the binding loosened. My breathing accelerated to supply oxygen to the blood racing through my veins. I relaxed my arms forward, grasping both the material of the gown and chemise at my breast. In one motion, I pulled everything down, shimmying the material over my hips before it fell to the floor. Wearing absolutely nothing but small leather slippers, I stepped out of the ensemble, never breaking Iain’s gaze.

  His mouth dropped open slightly, but no words came out. I’d rendered him speechless.

  “Well?” I purred the question, skimming my hands up my belly to my breasts, brushing fingers over already-peaked nipples. “Will you be undressing too? Or is this something I’m doing alone?”

  “Damn, woman.” He ripped the clothes from his body as if they’d been set ablaze.

  I admired Iain’s muscular, naked body. Battle scars in new places were revealed, bearing testament of his true nature—a warrior. Tonight, however, I had Iain the lover . . . the husband . . . the man.

  Iain eliminated the small distance between us and wrapped his arms around me, warming my chilled skin. His impressive erection pressed against my belly, reminding me of something I knew that he did not. He bent to kiss me, but I put a finger to his lips, stopping him.

  I swallowed hard. “Iain, I’ve . . . never done this . . . before.”

  He leaned back, loosening our embrace, reading my expression as his brows furrowed in confusion. After a few seconds, he took a deep breath, his features relaxing as he nodded.

  Butterfly kisses dotted a trail from my forehead to the tip of my nose and across my mouth. He dragged his lips along my jaw up to my ear and whispered, “I’ve never been more honored. To be the first to show you passion . . . on this night . . . ’tis a dream come true beyond my wildest imagination.”

  Concern about his reaction gave way to peaceful security. The man in my arms would take care of me. I slid my hands down the roped muscles of his back, resting them across the cheeks of his ass. He purred low in approval.

  We folded down onto the plaid. Solid arms guided me to my back, his hand cushioning my head. Iain draped over my body, leaning into my side. His free hand roamed over my skin, firing electrical impulses everywhere his slightest touch whispered.

  Dark eyes searched my own. His face hovered inches from mine, his long hair feathering across my cheeks. I swept the strands back with my hands, holding his face, gently pulling him down. He kissed me . . . a sweet, sensual, teasing kiss. I matched his erotic movements, dragging my lips across his, opening my mouth to taste his tongue, nipping and biting playfully. A growl rumbled deep in his chest as he pressed his hard length into my hip.

  Hot breath tracked across my skin as his mouth moved lower, tasting his way down my neck. My eyes drifted shut as he cupped a hand under my breast and gently lifted while skimming his fingers up. Without warning, he pinched my nipple. Hard. I gasped from the shock and heard his low chuckle. Moist heat surrounded my other nipple. He suckled . . . and bit me? I moaned as the sharp pain ebbed into warmed honey, dripping pleasure down . . . so far down.

  So damn intoxicating.

  As his mouth drugged my senses, I threaded my fingers into his silken hair, needing to touch him in any way possible. Long licks sprinkled with playful kisses trailed a path down my abdomen. My belly quivered, unfurling an even deeper ache inside. Floating on heady desire, I grew hyperaware as he shifted his weight between my legs, pressing my thighs wide apart.

  Wide open. Vulnerable.

  My pulse skyrocketed with the force of nature between my legs. Steam heated the skin of my inner thigh, flowing toward an aching center, and I grew frantic for his touch.

  Iain stalled. I opened my eyes, lifting my head to watch.

  He’d been staring up at me, waiting. A wicked grin broadcasted his intentions. He locked his gaze onto mine and dipped his chin, swiping a flat tongue through already-throbbing folds. A low whimper escaped my throat until an aching pulse snapped out, and I gasped.

  “Mmm . . . sweetest sugar,” he drawled.

  He drew his head back, licked his lips, and blew cool air across my heated flesh. I bucked my hips, wanting his teasing mouth to return, but his forearms rested on my thighs, holding me captive. When I settled down, the sensual instruction resumed at his unhurried pace . . . as if ensuring I’d pay close attention. Torturous slow licks. Merciless hard sucks. Soft cries broke free from my mouth with every shallow breath. I threw my head back, eyes closed, gripping the blanket in my fists with crazed need.

  Something slid inside in a smooth stroke. A second, thicker pressure made me realize his fingers were pressed into me. While sidetracked in thought about the exact details, a hard flick across my clitoris scattered the scientific analyzing, and I surrendered to every single pleasure. He stroked his fingers over sensitive nerves, fanning what began as a kindled ache into a blazing inferno. Every muscle in my body tensed, desperate for release.

  “Shhh . . . Isa. Just relax, lass.” His words purred against my skin seconds before his mouth covered my clit, sucking hard. He moaned, the vibrations traveling deep, and I gasped loudly, hanging on the precipice of a cliff.

  One unhurried lick. Another. I groaned, arching up into his mouth, panting for air. Iain masterfully orchestrated every note of my unfolding sonata, building the tension toward a crescendo.

  Without warning, he increased the tempo. My body tensed. A piercing scream tore from my throat and resonated off the rock walls as waves of pleasure resonated into me. Relentless. Consuming.

  In the midst of my orgasm, I struggled for breath while Iain climbed my body. A split second of awareness hit as his predatory gaze captured mine in silent warning. I slid trembling hands along his damp skin, resting them on his hips. The muscles flexed beneath my fingertips, and he pierced me straight through in a single powerful stroke.

  The shock of his hard body all over me, stretching me wide, possessing me completely, took my breath away. He silenced my gasp with a demanding kiss. The full sensation of his erection seated deep inside, but not yet moving, was disconcerting.

  However, the mild discomfort ended when I wriggled beneath him, fresh waves of pleasure rippling through me. He withdrew gradually, charging every nerve ending along the way. With a nip of my lips and a slow smile, he watched my face as he slid back inside, inching deep into slickened walls, sparking a whole array of new sensations.

  “So tight, Isa,” he purred out. “Heaven.” He closed his eyes, bliss written across his features.

  More forceful thrusts followed. I arched my hips, meeting his with every hard, urgent pump. The pace increased, and I lifted my legs, curving them around his ass, holding his powerful body tight. I lost myself, spiraling ever higher in unimagined ecstasy.

  Suddenly, I cried out, a single, delicious spasm surprising me. He paused, and my ache intensified. Fierce need for him to move whipped a sizzling-hot current through me. I froze, and the moment I stopped
breathing, Iain drove deep, setting off an internal explosion so hard, I shattered into a million fragments. My nails dug into his back as I mindlessly shouted his name.

  Iain lost control. He clutched my shoulders, slamming into me as my body-rocking orgasm continued. His muscles went rigid, and a growl tore from his chest as his release engulfed him. As his distinctive pulses mixed into mine, his movements lessened, his body collapsing in slow motion around me. He gently tightened the grip on my shoulders, nestling his lips against my ear.

  I felt cherished. Treasured. Loved completely from the inside out.

  Heaven indeed.

  Long moments of heavy breathing followed as we stayed connected, our bodies calming. There no longer existed a beginning and an end—we’d become one, eternal.

  Iain pulled up onto his elbows and gazed into my eyes. I saw so much reflected there: appreciation, reverence, and love.

  He bent down, bringing his lips to mine, giving me a tender kiss tasting of salt and my own flavor, something I’d never tasted before. The musky smell of our sex permeated the crisp night air which cooled my dampened body. I gripped him with my arms and legs, running my lips up his neck, inhaling the scent of pure male.

  “Iain, that was . . . you were . . . amazing. So amazing.” My mind struggled to process everything my sated body relished.

  He tugged at my earlobe with his teeth. “Every night will be filled with your cries. You’ve fiery passion in you. I intend to make good use of it.”

  I grinned at the thought of him making good use of my body. Self-pleasuring only scratched the surface of the ecstasy I’d just experienced. The unexpected loss of control and vulnerability under his dominance aroused me like I’d not thought possible. I laughed softly, trying to imagine enjoying other delightful things . . . in other erotic positions . . . as we explored this newly discovered side of me.

  He laughed. “What’s happenin’ in that head of yours?”

  I almost answered when he twitched inside of me, hardening. I groaned. He eased his hips back, sliding out, then advanced, filling me again. He knelt upright, gripping my ass, angling my hips. I rested my feet on the tops of his thighs, gazing up at his incredible form.

  “Ready for a second round?” he asked.

  I had no chance to respond. Iain slowly rocked his hips, caressing parts of me deep inside I hadn’t known existed. Strong hands ran up my thighs in long, soothing strokes. His dark, possessive gaze penetrated my soul, and I surrendered. To this life. To this man.

  In that moment, under his command, in the new world I’d been ensconced in, I realized I’d been dropped exactly where I was supposed to be.

  Home.

  CHAPTER Eleven

  The endless night sky swirled above, millions of stars glittering in a lazy circle as we floated. Weightless, an incredible euphoria drifted through me. Iain’s strong arms dragged slowly through the water, rotating us. The warmth of his body helped my thin SoCal blood handle the numbing water. I’d begged for a dip, but we’d extended the swim, indulging in the time we had in our special place.

  I rested my head against his shoulder, wondering if each pinhole dot in the black velvet sky represented another possible world. Life on other planets, space travel, and the space–time continuum were subjects I’d only seen in movies and on The Science Channel. But after being tossed through a bend in the laws of the Universe, I’d been given fresh perspective; even the most far-fetched of notions had become possible.

  Iain’s fluid movement interrupted my philosophical reverie. He dropped his lower body deeper under the water, towing us back to shore.

  We picked our way over moss-covered rocks so our feet wouldn’t sink into the mud. My teeth chattered uncontrollably until, seconds later, a fire-heated blanket cocooned me in warmth. Iain draped another plaid around his waist and sat on a nearby stump, tugging me onto his lap. We sat in companionable silence, watching the fire’s dry wood snap glowing cinders into the air. The breeze extinguished the faux fireflies into wisps of ash, floating them away.

  “What’re you thinkin’, Isa?”

  “Hmmm . . .” My mind had drifted a thousand places, bouncing from one tiny fragment to another. I tilted my head up, resting it in the crook of his shoulder, gazing at the vast heavens. The illuminated inky canvas reminded me of the pinpoints of light on his study wall. Uncertain how to phrase a lingering question, or whether he’d answer, I broached the topic as a statement. “The other day, I wandered into a map-filled room. One of the walls resembled tonight’s sky.”

  Iain merely listened. Or, perhaps in his silence, he reflected on matters he didn’t want to share. I turned, finding a solemn expression on his face. He searched my eyes, and I saw that truth and secrets were buried deep behind his dark expanded pupils. We waited long enough for the unasked question to drift up in the smoke. I didn’t want things left unsaid, nor did I want anything hidden, but I was confident there would be a time and place for everything.

  “Iain, it’s okay. We’re building trust between us. You can tell me when you’re ready, but I do need to understand. I’ve a right to know, since whatever power that box holds brought me here.” I paused. “The wall . . . it reacted to me, Iain.”

  His brows arched over widened eyes. Well, at least he didn’t hide his surprise about that revelation.

  Iain relaxed his face and tightened his hold around my blanket-wrapped body, resting his forehead on mine. On a contented sigh, I closed my eyes. The peace of his solid protection provided comfort in the middle of an uncomfortable subject.

  “Isa, the box and the wall . . . both have power. The two are connected in ways I doona fully understand. It’s always been this way. I’m a guardian. Responsibility to protect it—and the people under its shelter—has fallen to me, passed from my father, passed from his father.”

  I pulled away, taking a deep breath. “Does it react to you?”

  He nodded, his brows furrowing slightly.

  “Other people have seen the wall, haven’t they?” I asked. With the room unlocked, I was certain that I hadn’t been the only person to walk in there.

  “Aye,” he replied, “but the castle’s been home to us our entire lives. Those things are no stranger to them than a bird takin’ to flight.”

  “Does it react to anyone else? Your sister?”

  “Nay.” Iain’s tone had turned severe. He tilted his face, staring at the ground, preoccupied. I waited, but I knew I’d lost him. Never having had a serious relationship, unless one counted a love affair with all-things-old-and-buried, I had trouble gauging his demeanor. If he spent the silence determining how to reveal something, it had dragged on long enough. I’d push no further. With our new, fragile relationship, I refused to allow my curiosity to interfere with the happiness of our wedding night.

  My eager need to time travel back to modern-day California had been nullified by a desire to stay with Iain in my new home. It dampened the urgency of my fact-finding investigation. The moment for sharing would wait until both sides wanted to increase the bond of trust. I sensed he wanted to, but couldn’t.

  Perhaps more than the secrets themselves bound his tongue.

  * * *

  The days following the wedding evolved into one time-consuming activity after another. As the official Lady of Castle Brodie, from sunrise to sunset, I’d inherited the responsibilities of running the operation. Regardless of my knowledge of history, I still hadn’t imagined a lady would need to work her ass off to fulfill her duties.

  I puffed out my cheeks, blowing an errant lock of hair from my face, and wiped a damp brow on my sleeve. A last pull of the heavy oak front door marked the end of a productive day and the beginning of another night of quality time with my new husband.

  Iain spent his days training, hunting, and resolving disputes. Nearly every night, he’d come into our bedchamber after I’d already eaten, sparing just enough time for us to make love once or twice before our bodies surrendered to the deep slumber of exhaustion.


  Not a word of complaint left my lips, however, as I absorbed the details of a lost era. I’d become a bloodhound locked onto a scent, even if the opportunities to follow my favorite trail were only stolen moments. My priority in my new role, once I’d mastered the daily routine, had been not only to learn my duties, but also to analyze those of everyone else. I sought to streamline the drag on the ship in every way possible.

  “Goodnight, Agnes.” I smiled, turning away from the delightful young woman extinguishing candles in the great hall. She’d come into the fold at Brigid’s suggestion. One by one, I’d made new friends, and Agnes had become a welcome ray of sunshine in an ordinarily mundane day.

  “G’night, Lady Isobel. May the nights be filled with echoes of your passion and your belly filled with bairns,” she replied.

  I laughed, caught off guard with another of her uncensored proverbs.

  My foot touched the first step leading up to our bedchamber when I heard a rustle of papers. I turned, stalking down the dark hall to investigate.

  The door to Iain’s map room was ajar. Light streamed out through the crack, guiding my way. I paused, almost doubling back, wanting to respect Iain’s privacy. We’d had an amazing week of wedded bliss, and I wasn’t sure we were ready to talk about the biggest mystery plaguing my thoughts. However, fear of the unknown—of how Iain would react when pressed—would not rule my actions; I refused to establish a habit of avoiding confrontation.

  Despite my determination, my pulse accelerated, and bile threatened to rise into my throat. Through sheer will, I banished the anxiety and pushed the heavy door open.

  Iain stood with his back toward the door. He pulled out a scroll from the organized shelves, pushed it back in, and retrieved another, sliding it from the cubby where it had been stacked. He turned, his chestnut hair flowing like a silken waterfall over one shoulder.

  “Isa.” A warm smile softened features that had been hardened in concentration. He rested the tied parchment behind an obsidian weight on the worktable and closed the distance, embracing me. I purred with contentment. Wrapped in his arms had become my new addiction—one I craved throughout the day . . . where I enveloped myself at night.